


Hiding

by xXdreameaterXx



Series: Arrows of Eros [8]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Hand Jobs, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Sex in Space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 07:44:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5820055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdreameaterXx/pseuds/xXdreameaterXx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They never do it in the TARDIS, or her flat. It's like they're different people out there while they're running, like it doesn't even count, like it never really happens at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hiding

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to experiment with a different writing style for a while and this has come together from drafts of single sentences that I decided to put together.

_“We have to hide!”_  
That's how it starts and to this day the Doctor wonders why. They run like they always do and this time Clara is ahead of him; he can already hear their pursuers' footsteps. A hand grabs him, drags him into a kind of larder. This place is a perfect replica of a medieval castle, the only thing not medieval about it is that it's floating around in space on an asteroid. Other than that it's perfect, along with a perfectly cold larder as he soon realises. Clara is shivering next to him but there are still voices outside, looking for the intruders that have accidentally stumbled into the King's chamber. At first she steps closer to him for warmth. The Doctor's skin is cooler than her own but still not as cool as the room temperature. He isn't sure about what happens next. Her hand slipping beneath his shirt, a new feeling but not a bad one. It's curious how she can make his skin tingle like that. Her face nuzzled against his neck, her lips brushed against his throat. He's so scared he can't even move.

 

**OOO**

 

The Doctor brushes the thought about this incident aside. He doesn't understand it. He tells himself it's a human thing. They run further than they have ever been, they run faster than they ever have. The Doctor and Clara Oswald in the TARDIS. Same old, same old. Until they're locked up. As far as prison cells go, this is a nice one. Clean. White. No window or furniture. He assumes that Clara is bored cause there is no other reason her hand should be on his chest and slipping down. The Doctor opens his mouth to protest as she palms him through his trousers but no sound comes out and eventually he forgets why he wants to protest at all. His brain has never felt so empty. In the end Clara leaves him hard and aching, leaves a stain on his trousers, leaves his mind befuddled when the guards interrupt them, telling them they're free to go.

 

**OOO**

 

It's curiosity, the Doctor decides. Clara is curious and maybe a little bit lonely. It is natural but it is not what they should be doing and he vows to himself that he will put a stop to it. But it's Clara and she's the boss of him and he can't ever say no to her. Doesn't know how to. Doesn't know why he even should as he dives into her for the first time and it feels like heaven and hell at the same time. They're in the cockpit of an unmanned spacecraft that they have stopped crashing into the ISS and he thinks this may be an act of relief, an act of joy and victory but he isn't sure it even matters. He is a Time Lord, he should be above sex. The Doctor can only imagine how Missy would taunt him if she knew. Luckily for him she doesn't. And by all the Gods in the universe, her walls tightening around him, how his body goes into autopilot once he's beyond the point of no return, the moment he comes inside of her, it feels even better than running. 

 

**OOO**

 

It's not always about her. Not always about satisfying her own needs even though it mostly is. Clara is human and they need sleep and food and, well, sex. It's pre-programmed. It's in her nature. But sometimes she doesn't lower her knickers, she keeps the skirt where it is, her trousers buttoned. She just shoves her hand past his waistband, giving him a quick wank-off while they're separated from the rest of the expedition. Or she sinks on her knees in the Queen's bedroom in Buckingham Palace. She sucks him so hard he wants to scream but he can't, not with Her Majesty waiting outside until they're done checking the room for aliens. She can make him utterly fall apart and there is always this smile on Clara's face when she swallows, like she knows how much in control she is of him.

 

**OOO**

 

They never do it in the TARDIS, or her flat. It's like they're different people out there while they're running, like it doesn't even count, like it never really happens at all. The closest thing they ever do it to home is the UNIT Christmas party. The Doctor and Clara, alone in a storage room under the Tower of London amongst brooms and cleaning fluids. She's wearing red and it drives him insane when she dances and he ends up fucking her so hard she actually screams out his name when she comes. The Doctor is sure that Kate knows, that she can tell by their bruises and dishevelled looks but Clara doesn't seem bothered. He wants to ask her, wants to ask why they're doing this, but he's afraid. He's afraid she will stop. And he's starting to enjoy it. 

 

**OOO**

 

Eventually the Doctor just adds it to the list of things they do. Like the running, like the travelling in a blue police box. Eventually it becomes almost normal, like anything they do together can be considered normal. It's something they do and don't talk about. They just do it. It's something they're hiding. Not just from others but from themselves as well.


End file.
